Aelin's Crown
by Aelin Ashryver Galathynius
Summary: Spoilers to those who haven't read Heir of Fire! Takes place after Heir of Fire, when Celaena returns to Rifthold and confronts Arobynn for the Amulet of Orynth. -wink wink- Was meant to be a oneshot... But I might extend it. Hope you like this, please review!


Aelin paused before the entrance to the Assassins Keep, its polished oak doors daring her to enter. The King of Assassins was inside, no doubt already alerted of her arrival. She tugged at her cloak, wishing, just _wishing_, that Rowan Whitethorn was beside her now, his centuries of Fae training watching her back. But he was still in Wendlyn, helping repair Mistward after the battle with General Narrok and the Valg princes.

_My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I will not be afraid. _Even those words offered no relief from the sense of foreboding shadowing her every move. She opened the door hesitantly, almost listening to the tugging in her gut to turn and run, _now_. Yet she needed the third Wyrdkey, hidden in the Amulet of Orynth, the heirloom that Arobynn had stolen from her.

Lysandra was still there. She leaned against the banister, a thin shift over her slim form as she flirted with a group of assassins. Aelin hissed through her teeth and bowed her head even lower, hoping to hide her identity. Despite her efforts, their conversation grew silent.

She could feel their eyes following her, a futile attempt to discover anything as leverage against her. There were none- Rowan's training had not only taught her to master fire, but her Fae form as well, a body much harder to control, its instincts much stronger.

Arobynn's office was at the end of the hallway. Her heeled boots clicked on the marble floors, the only sound in a house of utter silence. She sensed people gathering to watch as she threw open the door and stepped inside, allowing it to slam shut.

The King of Assassins sat at his desk, carefully examining a stack of documents. Whatever sanity she had planned to maintain flitted away at the sight of his face. Fury overwhelmed her in waves and she slammed her hands onto the desk, several papers drifting to the floor.

She didn't bother apologizing. "You turned me in! You knew I was going to Endovier, and you didn't even _try_ to help! Did you know I was actually starting to forgive you? That I was putting in an effort to forget what you did to me?" Aelin steadied her breathing, but it only fueled her anger.

"I was wondering when you'd come back." Arobynn's voice was as cultured as ever, and he didn't even raise his eyes from his papers. She growled, barely restraining from beating the hell out of him. A little thanks for his help. "King's Champion." He laughed, and now looked at her, standing and pacing the length of his office.

"I want house Galathynius's amulet." Keep it short, and get to the point. He gave her an amused smile, taking from an open drawer the Amulet of Orynth. Aelin's breath caught in her throat. It was as magnificent as she remembered, the sacred white stag of Terrasen on one side, Wyrdmarks covering the other. She understood the Wyrdmarks now.

_The third is of the people's crown._

If she'd known before, she might never had lost it. And Nehemia would still be alive, and her parents could still be alive, and she might have protected Lady Marion, and the king would have been six feet under already, and- Guilt tugged at her heartstrings.

"What do you want this for? Celaena Sardothien isn't of house Galathynius." He enjoyed this game, she knew he did.

"She isn't," Aelin agreed. "But my name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, first of my name, rightful queen of Terrasen, and the amulet is _mine_." _And I will not be afraid_, she added silently. She took a step closer to him, her hands itching to claw the smile off his face, to gouge out the silver eyes that had seen her going to Endovier.

Her only warning was the flicker in his eyes before he lunged for her. She spun under him, but not fast enough to avoid the hit glancing off her shoulder. Another blow to her head sent her stumbling forward, disoriented. Her knee cracked against his desk, blinding pain lancing through her leg. She turned just in time to block a hit aimed for her gut.

Aelin brought her good knee up as hard as she could, but it connected with nothing, and she had the sudden, terrible sensation of flying... Her head slammed into the wall, Arobynn's slender fingers wrapped around her throat in a stranglehold. He waited for her to still before opening his mouth, but she spoke first.

"You know what, Arobynn?" she gasped, fighting the waves of darkness threatening to take her under. "You know what Wendlyn taught me during the month?" They were nearly the same words she'd asked Ansel of Briarcliff Hall in the fortress of the Silent Assassins, the _sessiz suikast_... He tilted his head curiously.

"This." Aelin whirled and hammered her fist into his head, savoring the pain of victory. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious. She plucked the third Wrydkey from his fingers, relishing the weight as it settled against her neck.

As a last thought, she brushed her lips against his cheeks, a mockery of his words to her two years ago.

She laughed as she opened the door. The assassins gaped as she flashed a feral grin, and waved her fingers in a cheerful farewell.

Her cloak was still pulled over her face as she approached the glass castle, swaggering up the paved road. But her heart stopped when she beheld the lone guard. A familiar face, too familiar, yet nothing like one she knew.

A collared prince with black, depthless eyes. Dorian.


End file.
